Sheriff of my Heart
by Diane Clifford
Summary: Toys as humans fiction. The simple story of a cowboy and a shepherdess. **COMPLETE!** Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

_Inspired by the fanart of KatyRomance on DA. Unfortunately her account is now deactivated, but I continue to give her credit all the same._

_About time I did a Bo x Woody story, what say? :-)_

* * *

**Chapter 1**

It all began the afternoon he was tending to the cattle on the farm where Mr Hayward lived. He had pushed back his hat, looking around at the surrounding countryside of the farm with a sigh. It was so peaceful here; a world away from the town where he had used to work. No, this was where he belonged, in the countryside, dealing with animals.

The fields around him stretched for miles in every direction, and in the distance he could see rolling hills and trees. If he climbed part way up the slope behind him leading to the farm itself, he could make out other small buildings in the neighbouring area. Mr Hayward said the land across there belonged in part to a Mr Miller, who owned a farm too, but he had never said what land belonged to whom. That wasn't a rancher's business, only the owners, and he was respectful enough not ask further questions.

So he was working the cattle that morning, shunting them all into a pen for their morning grazing. They had already been milked that morning, and now it was up to him as the rancher to keep an eye on them for the day, until such time that the dairy production would take over and he would be helping with that, too.

As he continued to move the cattle into a pen, something bumped his legs and he looked around, expecting to see a calf or something of similar build behind him. What he saw, in fact, was a sheep – a ewe, to be precise – which baa'ed at him and bumped against his legs again. It made to move forward and he had to reach down and grab it back, afraid the poor creature might get trampled under the hooves of the cows in the pen.

He was just managing to get a firm grip on the animal when another animal appeared besides it – a dog this time, a breed he recognised as a collie, which growled faintly and nudged the sheep away from his clutches. There was a shrill whistle and the dog went haring off in the direction of the sound, making him look up.

Coming over the hillside, was a woman, dressed all in pink, wearing a bonnet over her golden locks, and carrying a blue crook in her left hand. The dog danced after her as she walked. He saw her mouth move as she looked at the dog, and the dog left her side, coming back to the sheep and nudging it up the hill towards her this time. She grasped the sheep's woollen coat and looked back up, directly at him.

"Stay," she commanded, her voice steady, as she left the animals and walked towards him. "Hi."

"Howdy." He returned. "Your sheep?"

"Yes. Sorry, about that. It's not often Shep lets one off the lead like that."

"No problem." He returned shortly.

"I didn't realise the Hayward's had taken on another cattle rancher."

"Oh...yeah. Not been here long though."

"I see. What's he like?"

"Who?"

"Mr Hayward." She rolled her eyes good naturedly.

"Oh, he's a good enough man. A good owner and a good worker when it comes to the produce."

"I see. And you...you are?"

"Woody." He extended a hand, and she hesitated, curls blowing in her face as she shook his hand.

"Bo. I work over on the Miller's farm, over yonder." She indicated behind her.

"Oh, I've heard of Mr Miller."

"Oh really? What have you heard?"

"Not much. Just that he owns the other farm and some of the surrounding land."

"That'd be about right."

"And you're over there for the sheep, then?"

"Yes. Just the sheep." She paused and looked back at the collie, who was guarding the sheep protectively. "Talking of which, I should get back. I only came over here to retrieve the ewe."

He nodded. "Of course."

She smiled faintly, "But this was nice, to see another face on the fields. Perhaps I'll see you again sometime?"

"Maybe."

She kept her smile on her face as she turned to walk off,"Remember, cowboy. I'm only a couple of fields away."

He watched her go, the dog guiding the sheep besides her, and then she was over the hill, and out of his sight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

The next day, after his duties with the cattle and the dairy were complete, Woody decided to pay a visit to the Miller's farm, being careful to use the back fields to walk there. He spotted Bo almost immediately in a pasture dotted with fluffy sheep, her back to him. As he approached, the dog sensed him and pricked its ears. Bo noticed the dogs' movement, and turned, throwing him a smile.

"Well, g'afternoon, stranger. What brings you here?"

"I thought you might like a break from counting sheep." He replied with a laugh.

"That I might!" Bo turned to the dog, still sitting beside her. "Shep, stay, and watch the sheep." The dog whined in return, and lay down, watching the sheep with one ear cocked in the air.

"I have something I want to show you anyway. My favourite place in the world," Bo admitted, hitching up her skirt slightly as they walked away from the farmland.

"Oh?" Woody turned to glance at her, but her eyes were looking straight ahead at the path they were to follow up the fields.

"Yes, just over the fields up there," she pointed to the smallest of the rolling hills. "It's a nice walk and a beautiful view."

They walked together in companionable silence for a few minutes more, until they reached the top of the hill. From here the land fell and curved, and in the centre of it, stood an enormous oak tree. As Woody stopped part way up the hill to admire the scenery behind him, Bo walked on ahead, using her crook to help her up the slope. When Woody turned his attention back to her, she was calling to him.

"Woody, come up here. It's so glorious, you must see this."

He walked up to stand besides her, leaning his forearm against the tree as he looked down at the view below him. For there, spread out below him, was the town. He could see cars on the roads, the markets, and people bustling about.

"Holy cow," Woody breathed, and heard her giggle next to him.

"I come up here whenever I need to get away from watching the sheep, or even just to remind myself I'm not alone in the world. I only have to look down there to remember that life goes on." Bo explained.

Woody nodded. They viewed the town for a few minutes in silence again, drinking it all in, every detail, every blot of colour on the landscape. Eventually Woody broke the silence.

"Well, this is lovely. Perhaps we could do this again sometime?"

"I'd like that." She turned to look at him, a pretty smile coming over her face and he smiled back at her, before jolting out of his thoughts.

"I should get back. Old Mr Haywards gonna be wondering where I got to."

"I understand. I really shouldn't leave Shep too long either." She replied softly. "Till tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow," he replied, tipping his hat to her as she began her descend down the slope again. He turned back to regard the view below once more, before following in her footsteps down the hillside.

* * *

They continued to meet in this fashion for days upon weeks after this, either on the hillside itself, or Woody would walk the two fields across to meet Bo and accompany her up the ridge. He was becoming fond of her. All he thought of was her, on the drive back to his cabin in the nearby lane, when he was herding cattle, and when he was alone at night. He saw her blonde curls, her blue eyes. But he kept such feelings at bay, and to himself.

Instead he busied his mind around Bo with talk of her life on the Miller's farm, tending the sheep; and his own experiences as a rancher, alongside his stories of the town where he used to work. Bo was intrigued by every town-related story, and admitted on more than one occasion that the town seemed a nearer place now that he had answered so many questions she'd had about it.

Then one day she came to meet him, her face unusually flushed from her walk. He had been leaning against the tree when she appeared, pondering over some cattle difficulties, when he saw her.

"Bo," his face brightened as it usually did, as she walked up to him.

"Hi." Her voice was barely a whisper.

He sensed her mood immediately. "What is it?"

"It's Brad. He...found out I come up here. He's been spying on me. He says I can't see you anymore."

"But-" Woody was gobsmacked. "Who's Brad?" She'd never mentioned anyone apart from Mr Miller, the farm owner.

"My boyfriend," she responded, and Woody's heart felt heavy with loss and envy at the same time.

"So this...is goodbye?" He asked, and she nodded, looking down at her hands.

"I shouldn't even be here. I just wanted to tell you outright so you didn't worry." She said, her shoulders beginning to tremble. Woody made to step forward but she held up her hands.

"No Woody. I can't. It would be a betrayal of my word to him if I was even to touch you. I'm sorry." She added, noticing his sorrowful expression.

"Well, I guess there's nothing more to say," he said in a low, bitter voice.

"Except...goodbye," she returned, dropping her gaze as she turned away and walked out of his sight for the last time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

He couldn't believe she was gone. He walked down the hillside that afternoon, remembering all the times she's been besides him. The gentle way she'd steady herself against the gradient of the slope using her crook. He remembered one or two occasions when she had clutched at him, and his heart warmed at the memory. But for the most part she had been sure footed and agile at climbing the hillside and so it'd never crossed his mind that she looked upon him merely as an acquaintance, another 'face on the fields', as she had put it so concisely in the beginning.

When he returned to the farm, Mr Hayward was in the dairy barn, churning butter by hand, and Woody set to help him. Anything to erase the memory of the painful incident that afternoon.

* * *

The weeks passed, and so did the summer. With the autumn came falling of the leaves from the trees, the chill wind that nipped at Woody's face when he went out to tend to the cattle in the barn, and the inevitable darkness that fell sooner and sooner each day.

The Miller's farm was still inhabited; Woody noticed the lights glowing from the windows every morning when he walked to the barn. He hadn't entirely been able to push thought of Bo aside after all. He did wonder from time to time if she was safe and her boyfriend was treating her well.

A week later the autumn turned to winter and with the winter, the fall leaves were encrusted with snow and ice that crunched and crackled underfoot. It also brought rainstorms and the odd bout of thunder and lightning. During the very worst of the storms, Mr Hayward, even a good and kind man, sent a message to Woody to tell him not to worry about coming to the farm.

"I'd rather have a farmhand more healthy than not," he'd written.

* * *

It was two days after this message was relayed to the cowboy that the adverse weather conditions lifted, and Woody got in his truck to drive the short distance to his employers land. As he drew closer, his eyes searched for the Millers' farm on the horizon. It was a force of habit for him now – the only way he could keep an eye on Bo was from a distance, and through limited means. There was no visible lighting from what he could see, so he drove a little way past the Haywards' farm, thinking his eyes may have deceived him, trying to get a better look.

What he saw wrenched his heart and filled him with dread. Instead of the farmhouse standing proudly on the outskirts of the land, all that remained was the stone walls. It looked like the thatched roof had been torn off, but as Woody got nearer still, he could see the black marks, as if the roof had been torched.

He wasted no time getting out of the truck and running towards the farmhouse. He could have cared less that she was forbid to see him; he cared even less for what Brad might think of him bursting in. Instead of finding a door to burst through, however, he only found a charred doorway. Inside, as he peeked cautiously in, the walls crumbled from the outside in, and the beams from the roof were on the floor, broken and twisted. The floor itself was wet – the structure, in the absence of a roof, had no protection from the elements.

He knew it was fruitless finding anything in this chaos, but he had to try.

"Bo?" He called. "Mr Miller? Brad?" he called, then paused, not daring to step too far inside. "Bo?" he called again. There was a deadly silence.

_Where were they?_ There seemed to be a lot of possessions scattered on the floor, the furniture still in place, broken down and dirty now. '_They wouldn't just have left the farm in the middle of a storm, would they?'_ Woody thought, turning to leave. Suddenly the horrible thought that Bo may not have escaped the building made its way into his brain, and he choked back a sob.

She couldn't be gone entirely. She just couldn't be.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 **

When he had finally composed himself enough to make the short drive back to the Haywards land, he arrived to see Mr Hayward outside tending to the front garden. He was plucking weeds from the dirt, throwing them into a bucket. "I see you drove in the other way, laddie." he said brashly, rising to his feet.

Mr Hayward was a widow of about sixty or thereabouts, with greying hair and a potbelly – the result of the passing years without a wife to cook for him, he'd relied heavily on convenience foods and bread, along with the dairy products he so tirelessly worked to produce. He wore faded trousers with sturdy boots, and no matter what weather, he always wore a jumper. He also smoked a pipe, something that he now took out of his mouth as Woody answered him.

"Yes sir. How long has the next farmhouse been..." Woody struggled to say the word, "...burnt?"

"Only a couple of days, laddie. In fact it happened during that big storm." Mr Hayward sucked on his pipe a couple of times. "Aye, t'was a sad business n' all." He paused again as Woody stared at him, waiting for him to go on.

"Rumour, and it be only rumour, is that the farm was willed to the son of Mr Miller, who has this pretty little lass shacked up with him. Well, so I hear, the son got peeved with his girl – he found her gallivanting about with some chap she'd met. He must have told her to choose, because she walked away from this chap, and went running back to him."

"Anyway, the son, having regained his girl, started asking the question of the father over what the land would be worth on his death, so he'd know whether he and his girl could afford to be married. Mr Miller apparently told him the farm wasn't willed to him, despite what he thought, and the son went crazy berserk. In return for the truth coming out, he must have set light to the farmhouse not long after."

Woody listened with bated breath. "So, they were all in the house when the fire happened?"

"Well, Mr Miller I hear, was crushed by a falling beam. The son however went on the run from the authorities for such an act."

"And the girl?"

"Nowhere to be found."

* * *

He tended to the cattle in the barn that morning, lost in thought of Mr Haywards story. So Bo had been in the house when the fire started, yet she and Brad were both missing and Mr Miller was dead. _'He must have taken her on the run with him,' _ Woody thought, gloomily, as he left the barn after the cattle duties were complete.

The day was overcast, and there was a faint light over the surrounding fields. He needed to walk to clear his head, and he found himself inadvertently climbing the slope towards the old oak tree. As he neared the top, he remembered it as Bo's favourite place. Now it would be his, too.

* * *

It was several more weeks before anything else came of the sad situation revolving around the Miller's farm. The news was delivered to him by Mr Hayward one morning when he got out of his truck. The elderly man was waiting for him on the porch, and called him over.

"I got a letter for you, laddie," he said brusquely. "Don't know how they came to find you here, whoever it is."

Woody took the letter from the old man and turned it over in his hands before slipping it into his jacket pocket with a quiet word of thanks. He walked to the barn, the letter burning a hole where it lay nestled in the lining.

After the mornings work was done with tending to the cattle, and before he headed to the dairy barn, he took a moment to sit down on a hay bale, pulling the letter from his pocket once more. He turned it over, smelled it. He knew it had to be from one person and one person only. The only person who knew where he was. But he had no clue what the letter might contain. Would it tell him of her nuptials to Brad? Would it implicate Brad fully in the death of his own father? Or would it tell him that she cared for him, Woody? He took a deep breath, turned the envelope open, slitting it down the side with a thumbnail, and pulled out the folded sheets of paper – two – inside. He unfolded it slowly, hardly daring to pull it in case it tore; such a precious script to him. He steadied himself and began to read its contents.

_Dearest Woody,_

_I hardly know where to begin. It's been months since I have seen you, and I am unsure of what you may have heard regarding the demise of the Miller's farm. Allow me to tell you the short version, so that your heart may be lightened of whatever load it carries at present._

_It began some weeks after I left your side. Brad, on finding I had broken all contact with you, was overjoyed, almost insanely so. I promised myself I would be a good and dutiful girlfriend, with the notion of one day becoming his wife, as he had so often talked about to me, and he also told me the farm would be his in the event of his father's death._

_However, things took a turn for the worse when he approached his father, Mr Miller, about the farm's value. Mr Miller said, in so many words, that the farm did not belong to himself, and so it could never belong to Brad. Brad was furious, as you can well imagine, and they had the most disagreeable row I have ever had the misfortune to hear. _

_After the argument Brad came to me and told me it was over between us. He said he could no longer wish to provide for me, since one day he would be poor, and told me to leave the farm immediately. But where could I go, Woody? I have no family in these parts, but I was forced to leave against my will. So I packed the few belongings I had and set off for town._

_I thought of coming to find you before I left the farm, but I was afraid you wouldn't want me near you after the terrible way I behaved. I went straight to town on foot. It was strange, I felt I knew it so well, I remembered your stories of working there as a young man, and it kept me going on the long walk away from everything I'd ever known. _

_Once in town, I found I had enough money to rent a small room, and settled into my lodgings for a few days, unsure of what to do or where to go._

_It was by chance one morning when I had gone to find somewhere to get some breakfast, that I noticed the local church was advertising for missionaries. The poster intrigued me, and I stepped into the church a poor woman, and stepped out feeling like the riches of the world had been bestowed on me. The church works with other organisations to make the world a better place, I never realised it before. I have been given a chance to help others, and such a wonderful chance it is. _

_Within a few weeks I had relinquished my assets, what little I had, and took an opportunity to work with people in __Charlottesville. I help with book keeping and filing, all in aid of supporting a ministry that works with people in Africa to give them a better way of life. The position is anything from 3 months onwards, and it's given me a chance to have my eyes opened to the world around me. _

_And that is how time has come to pass. I felt I needed to write to you, to tell you where I was._

_I hope everything is settled at the Haywards, and that you are keeping well. _

_Yours in understanding,_

_Bo._

He looked at the bottom of the letter. _'Yours in understanding,' _and sighed. Suddenly, he did understand. She'd gone to better herself in the wide world. What on earth would she want with him now?

He carefully folded the paper back in two and pushed it back into the envelope, putting it back in his pocket, before rising and heading out of the barn. She was obviously never his to have, the events of the past few weeks had seen to that.

Without another thought, he walked to the dairy barn, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his fingers curling around the envelope sub consciously.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

It was a long tiring winter for the cowboy, who worked the cattle and the dairy barn day in and day out. On the better days, which were few and far between now, he took the walk up the slope to the old oak, and would stand there, looking over at the town, noting the steeple of the church. It was almost as if he was gazing down upon Bo in a way.

She was never far from his thoughts. Over the winter, she sent three more letters, all more or less the same style as the first one, letting him know she was still working for the missionary in offices in Charlottesville, and not to worry about her any longer. He sent her only one reply, a short note to let him know everything was fine, and that he forgave her. But after this he resigned himself to put her out of his mind; but he cherished the letters she sent, storing each one between books on the shelf above the fireplace in his cottage.

* * *

The winter passed, and in the spring the leaves returned to the trees, and so did the cattle to the outside pens. The first calves of the spring were born, and the elderly Mr Hayward was on hand to assist Woody with the taking of the male calves to market to sell.

The dairy farm continued to produce good yield week in and week out, so much so that Woody was rushed off his feet helping him. But it was good, honest work, and he didn't mind the tiredness so much.

He still found time to walk up the hill to the old oak, and in this better weather he would look down first at the town, and then he would turn to look over at the other fields behind him, which had scarcely been able to be seen in the fog and gloom of the winter. He could see, from where he stood, the uncultivated, hard ground of the fields, leading down to the crumbled, almost gone farmhouse. The winter had not been kind to the old structure, there was barely anything left of it now.

* * *

It was another morning, some weeks later still, that a hard mist covered the area around the farmland. Woody had spent the morning coaxing and shunting the cattle back to the barn after a direction from Mr Hayward to do so. He decided, pulling his jacket closer around himself, that he'd take another walk to clear his head. Mr Hayward wouldn't be expecting him back so soon in this fog, so he'd have plenty of time to himself.

He climbed the hillside to where the oak tree stood, sighing as he looked down at the sleepy, misty town, half hidden by the haze of the fog; it was then that a melody caught his ears.

"Woody?"

It couldn't be. He turned to see her standing not more than a few steps behind him, and in the dark fog of the day, her beauty made it seem like the sun was shining.

"Bo!" He couldn't believe it. She was really there? He noticed she wore no bonnet, her ringlets falling loose around her face, and she carried no crook. Only the pink of her dress was familiar to him.

He stepped towards her, opening his arms and suddenly she was snuggled to him, her heart beating wildly in time with his, as he held her tenderly. Her tears fell, soaking into the cloth shirt he wore, as he spun her around in his arms under the tree. She looked up at him as he tipped her chin up with his thumb, holding her waist as she leaned on the tree for support. She was shaking, he realised.

He hesitated looking down at her through disbelieving eyes. "I thought I'd lost you forever," he whispered, and she put her hand on his arm.

"Never, sheriff of my heart," she whispered back, and he couldn't resist the urge any longer. As he bowed his head to kiss her lips for the first time, she slipped her free arm around his neck, pulling him closer. She tasted so sweet and pure, her cotton dress soft to the touch.

When they pulled back, his fingers traced her cheek. "What made you come back here?"

"You," she whispered. "I missed you so much. When I got your letter I couldn't believe you'd forgiven me. It gave me the strength to go on for a little while, but then I realised...when I left...I left everything I'd ever known. My job, my home, my best friend." Her hand clutched his arm tighter. "Charlottesville and the missionary people were so nice...but it wasn't where I belonged, even if it was an experience I'll never forget in a hurry."

"Oh Bo." He couldn't find the words to say. Instead he enveloped her in a gentle hug, and she laid her head on his chest as they stood under the oak tree, enjoying the sensation of being in each other's arms.

* * *

They eventually returned to the farm via the dairy barn, much to the shock of Mr Hayward.

"Well," he spluttered on seeing Bo. "If it isn't the shepherdess herself. Aye, you're a dark horse, laddie. Isn't this the very girl Mr Miller's son was seeing?"

Woody nodded, and Bo blushed on being noticed. "I'm with Woody now, sir," she said timidly, and Mr Hayward raised a brow at her forwardness.

"I see that, lass. Aye, this one, he's a much better worker than that idle no good son of Mr Miller's, I'll give him that." He spat on the floor and went right on churning butter like he was going to rip the handle off the churner. A little confused by the statement about Mr Miller's son, Woody pressed the old farmer for more information.

"Aye, I thought this subject would come up sooner rather than later," the old man panted, swinging the handle round and round violently. "Mr Miller's son used to work for me. He was the old cattle rancher I had, prior to you, laddie. I remember when he brought the lass back to the farmhouse for tea. I wasn't half shocked at his gall. I'd just hired her to look after my sheep when that son got his claws into her."

He noticed Woody's face clouding right over with confusion now, and laughed softly. "What, you believed that the Miller's owned that farm laddie? Naw." he chuckled again, "The land is all mine. I own the farm next door. I merely rented the farmhouse to them, and they couldn't even take care of that!"

Woody suddenly understood. "So Bo was never employed by Mr Miller?"

"No laddie. She's my shepherdess. Nothing to do with the Miller's. Never mind what they told you, lassie. You don't belong to them and you never did."

"But the sheep-" Woody started, and Mr Hayward laughed.

"You think I sit around doing nothing while you're out there tending the cattle in the mornings? Naw...I'm over the other side of the fields, tending the sheep. Bo just looks after and protects them, with the help of Shep, since I have dairy farming to do every afternoon."

Things suddenly became clear. Woody glanced across at Bo, who suddenly spoke, "So I never lost my job?"

"No lassie. I don't know what mumbo jumbo they've been feeding you, but it's all rubbish," Mr Hayward said gently.

Bo blinked, her eyes wide. "So I ran away for nothing?"

"Not nothing, Bo. You weren't to know." Woody said, in an equally gentle voice as the farmer had used.

"They told me I was on their land so I'd have to abide by their rules," Bo sobbed, her shoulders beginning to tremble.

"Poppycock," Mr Hayward said shortly, finishing churning the butter and rolling up his sleeves. "It's a good thing they both went. Now maybe I can start running the farm the way it should be run, without idle, ignorant people getting in the way."

"Sir?" Woody asked.

"Well, it's high time I got more help around here." Mr Hayward said. "I'm not getting any younger, and the last winter we had was a tough one. I'm going to advertise for more staff." He looked at Woody. "You'll be in charge of the cattle, son. Your little missie, she can take on full responsibility for the sheep. She's earned it. And I'll take on another to help me with the dairy farm. That way, I know all the farm will be looked after properly at all times."

"Sounds like a swell idea, sir," Woody said with a smile, as the two men shook hands to seal the deal, with Bo looking on in delight.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_Note: I have had to go back and loosely tamper with the end of Chapter 5, because on reading it back prior to writing this, it didn't make quite enough sense. It's just a few words dropped and switched, nothing major. :-)

* * *

_

Mr Hayward was as good as his word. With Woody and Bo settled under his employment once more, he put out the word for new staff, and he had several applicants. He ended up hiring a sweet little twister by the name of Jessie, a redhead, and full of life. She loved horses, having owned them as a little girl, and she rode in on her own horse every day.

Jessie was on hand now to help Mr Hayward with the dairy farm part of the business, however whenever she got the chance, she'd sneak out and go to the cattle pen, often finding Woody there to talk to. Over the following months, the two of them became close, almost like a brother-sister bond, no more, no less, and he looked forward to their talks almost as much as he had looked forward to talking with Bo when he'd first met her.

Jessie related to him that she'd used to work for stables, which was still run, but were in danger of being bankrupt before the end of the year. She was worried for the horses, as with nowhere to keep them; they'd have to be put down if homes couldn't be found for them. Woody was sympathetic to her plight, he hated to hear of healthy animals being destroyed.

Woody talked of the stables with Bo too, while they sat together on the hillside watching over the sheep with Shep lying at their feet. She listened, and patted his hand every time the subject came up, and told him that there would be a salvation to the crisis. Her belief in the right thing happening was very strong ever since the missionary and church work she'd undertaken. Woody's beliefs, although nowhere near as resolute as hers, were aided by her gentle understanding, and he felt at peace for a while.

* * *

The peace he felt was soon to be shattered however. In the autumn of that year, barely eight months after the farm was back together, the old Miller's farmhouse pulled down completely, the fields ploughed, and the summer harvest brought in, than Mr Hayward fell over one day when working in the dairy barn with Jessie.

The redhead came running across the fields, shouting for Woody. The cowboy, alone with Bo in his arms near the sheep pasture, as was usual practise for them in the afternoon, turned at the sound of her voice.

"Woody! Mr Hayward's fallen and he won't get up! You have to come quick!" She shouted, and Woody ran down the slope, tripping on loose rocks as he made his way after Jessie to the barn, Bo in pursuit.

When they arrived at the barn, Mr Hayward was on his back next to the churner equipment, gasping for breath. Woody knelt down besides the old farmer, pulling off his hat and loosening the buttons on his shirt so the old man might be able to breathe more easily.

"That damn pipe," Mr Hayward spluttered, and Woody shh'ed him.

"Its fine, sir, we'll have you on your feet in no time." He turned to Jessie. "Saddle your horse, ride to town and get the doctor up here."

"No, laddie." Mr Hayward put his hand out, and Jessie, halfway to the door, stopped and turned back.

"Sir, let Jessie go. She can be there and back in five minutes the way she rides that horse." Woody said gently.

"No son, listen. I'm old. I've done my time."

"Sir?" Woody felt his emotions stir. "Sir, you're not dying."

"I think I might be, laddie..." Mr Hayward rasped suddenly. "I...can feel...I feel like I'm falling, son."

"No...no..." Woody whispered, and Bo came to kneel besides him, taking the cowboy's hand in her own, as Jessie looked on in the background.

"I never wrote a will, son. I depend on the honour of a man's word. I want you to carry this on for me when I'm gone." Mr Hayward said suddenly, choking out the words.

"What?" Woody's voice was barely heard in the quiet of the dairy barn.

"The farm, son. It's yours. Do what you will with it. Sell it. Keep it. Raise a family here. I don't mind, as long as it stays in your name and you carry on where I left off."

The weight of responsibility settled like a dead weight around Woody's shoulders. "I can't. I don't know how."

"Then let the little miss help you, Woody. She trusts in God's work." Mr Hayward said, closing his eyes, a breath escaping his lips. "As I must now."

"Sir? Sir?" Woody leaned forward over the old man on the floor, but he was already gone.

* * *

It was a sad day for all of them as they watched the doctor's car and the mortuary van leave the farm later that day. The doctor had ruled that Mr Hayward had died after suffering from a heart attack, no doubt brought on by the food he ate and the lifestyle he kept for so many years.

Woody wrapped his arms around Bo as they watched the vehicles depart; feeling like he'd lost a father. None of them said anything, as they traipsed back into the barn to finish the dairy production with heavy hearts. Bo went to see to the sheep and put them into the barn for the rest of the day, and Jessie assisted Woody with seeing to the cattle being put away too.

With the farm seen to, Jessie mounted her horse and rode off without a backward glance, and Woody climbed into his truck next to Bo, who was in the passenger seat. They exchanged a glance before they too, left the farm.

Bo had been staying with Woody in his cottage for some months now. They'd found it easier than trying to find her a room in the town again, and it also cut out the long walk she'd have to endure every morning should she have lived in town. Besides, Woody wanted her close by – he'd lost her twice now after all, and she had no complaints about living with him.

As the days passed, they found no reason to go back to the farm, preferring to mourn in the solace of the cottage. It was one day, during this mourning period, that the thought of Jessie crossed Woody's mind, and he paced to the window in thought.

Bo, sitting by the fire, sewing, glanced up as he moved into the light. "What is it?" She asked, watching his tall frame in the window.

"Nothing. Just a thought," Woody returned, moving from the window at last. Bo dropped her head and went on with her sewing as Woody stood over the table in the centre of the room, reaching for a pen and paper. He sat down and she glanced up as she watched him scribbling a note.

A long fifteen minutes passed before Woody rose again. "Would you like a walk to town, m'lady?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_Note: The dress mentioned in this chapter is inspired by the fan art of *lily-fox. : - )_

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* * *

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In town, Woody headed straight for the post office, or at least he would have done had he not been stopped every so often by people he knew from when he used to work there. Bo stayed at his side, acknowledging others when Woody introduced her, but otherwise remained rather quiet.

Inside the post office, Woody paid for a telegram service and handed the clerk the letter Bo had seen him writing so fervently not more than an hour ago. With the postal business complete, Woody turned to Bo.

"How about we go and get some lunch at the cafe across the square? I hear the owner's wife is quite a cook," he added, Bo putting her arm through his as they left the building. "And then, perhaps, we can do a little shopping."

"Woody, all this expense?" Bo looked up at him, and he smiled at her.

"Have you forgotten I'm a man of means now, Bo? That land belongs to me. And I know it must be worth something for Brad to act in the way he did."

Bo cringed slightly at the use of the name so carelessly dropped into the sentence, and Woody sucked in his breath.

"Oh Bo, I'm sorry."

"It's fine." She reassured him with a gentle pat on his arm. "It's just something I need to get used to, after all."

"Maybe over lunch I can tell you what the letter was about, now it's sent and out of the way." Woody said, trying to make it up to her.

"I'd like that." Bo had been curious after all, and they entered the cafe across the square, arm in arm still.

* * *

Many minutes later they were seated at a quiet table in a far corner, sipping coffee as Woody related the contents of his thoughts and telegram to an inquisitive Bo.

"The telegram I sent, Bo. It was to Jessie."

Bo couldn't hide her shock. "Jessie? Whatever were you telegramming her for?"

"Because I don't know where she lives, Bo. I only know the location of the place she used to work."

"So you sent a telegram to her work? Why?"

"Because I kept thinking about what you said. There will be a salvation to the crisis, and you were right. What better way to break the bond the Miller's have over you than to sell the land?"

"Sell the farm?" Bo gasped, and Woody shook his head.

"I'm not selling the farm, Bo. It's the only place I have to bring in money. No, I intend to put a fence up across four of the fields – the ones for the sheep and the cattle, and then the one with the oak tree on the slope, and then we'll need another as a paddock area."

Bo looked at him. "A paddock?"

"Yes. It's all so simple, Bo. We build a small stable area for horses, and we move the ones from the stable where Jessie works, over to the farm. Jessie can look after them, and we can take on any stable hands that happen to be working where she is at the moment."

"Woody..." Bo was quiet for a few moments, then said, "I think that's so wonderful."

"You do?"

Bo put her hand over his. "I do. That's such a kind thing to do. I know how much you fretted for Jessie's problem. I'm sure she'll jump at the chance."

"Well, we'll see. I need to await what her letter says before I go doing anything rash."

"Well, even if you wanted to sell the land, there's nothing to stop you. And we really should clean up the farmhouse..." Bo mused aloud, and Woody laughed softly at her sudden enthusiasm.

"You're right, Bo. We really should. Perhaps..." he thought for a moment. "Perhaps we could live in the farmhouse when it's looking better, and I could rent the cottage to Jessie? Then she wouldn't have to travel for miles every day?"

"Where do you come up with such ideas?" Bo was gazing at the cowboy with a smile plastered over her face.

"I don't know. They just came to me, like a bolt of lightning."

"Maybe it's Mr Hayward, pointing you in the right direction." Bo suggested, and Woody chuckled.

"Maybe he's looking out for us, Bo. Maybe this is his blessing."

* * *

After their lunch, they took a walk around the town, passing the church where Bo had entered so many months previous to find her calling to Charlottesville. She gazed fondly at the place, remembering what the life out working for missionaries had taught her to be thankful for, and then they moved on.

She gazed into the shops at all the material possessions, noticing a pretty red frock in one window. She stared at it for quite some time, noting the detail on the skirt, as Woody wrapped his arm around her waist.

"You like it?"

Bo nodded slightly.

"I could...buy it for you, if you wanted."

"No Woody, it'd be too expensive." She refused to even consider the notion.

"Bo...you're my girl now, remember? You can have anything you want."

"You mean that?" She turned to glance up at him, and his look was genuine.

"Anything, mademoiselle." He teased, and she rolled her eyes, turning back to look at the dress.

"It _is_ beautiful," she conceded after a few moments more, and he pulled her away from the window and into the shop on hearing this.

"Then we better buy it for you, with shoes to match, hadn't we?"

* * *

Later that evening, on their return to the cottage, Bo put on the new red dress again whilst alone in the bedroom. She couldn't believe how generous Woody had been with his emotions and his money that day. She'd rarely had any gifts from Brad, who lived on the breadline daily, and his father had been no help to his son when it came to money. So the dress, while unexpected entirely, was also somewhat of a note to how different Woody was to Brad.

She sighed, taking off the dress slowly. She'd save it for best, she decided, folding it neatly and storing it in the box it had come in, putting back on her usual pink attire and picking up the small bag that sat on the floor. She tipped it up and out fell a jumble of things – a thin neckscarf, two boxes; one large, one small; a pair of gloves, and a paper wrapped parcel.

She put the scarf and gloves to one side and opened the paper parcel, gazing at the jewellery inside it. There was a small red bracelet and a small silver locket nestled there, and she fingered them for a moment before laying the package open on the bed next to her. She picked up the larger of the two boxes, taking out the red bonnet that was folded neatly inside it. Woody had brought her red shoes too, all this in favour of accessorizing the beautiful red dress.

She glanced down at the bed, noting the small box that lay unopened. She didn't remember him buying her anything else. Just as she picked up the box, turning it over, about to open it, she heard footsteps on the stairs and Woody burst into the room, waving a telegram, just as she clicked the small box open.

"Jessie said yes!" Woody shouted gleefully from the door, and then noticed exactly what Bo was doing. He bit his lip, and watched her.

"Oh Woody, that's great!" Bo enthused happily, and then noticed his expression change in a moment. "What?" She looked down at the box in her lap and gasped. "Is this...?"

His reply was stuttered. "Silver? Yes."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

It was early morning when Jessie rode up to the farmhouse. As she neared the drive of the property, the door swung open and Woody came ambling down the porch steps to meet her, Shep behind him by his ankles.

"Howdy, Jessie," he called, and she waved in response, dismounting from her horse and turning. She now saw the young lady Woody was courting on the steps behind him, looking as elegant and dainty as ever. Jessie fought to remember her name –_ Bo_; that was it. There was a prickle of an atmosphere in the air, and Jessie looked between the two of them for a moment, an unsure smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"What is it? What's going on?"

"Oh nothing much," Woody said. "Just clearing out the farmhouse, in preparation for us moving in."

"You and Bo are going to be living together again?" Jessie said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Woody said, as Bo started to come down the steps to join him. He grabbed Bo's left hand and thrust it out into Jessie's view. Jessie looked down and squealed loudly.

"Oh my horses, you're getting MARRIED?" She shrieked, throwing her arms around Woody and then Bo in quick succession.

"We certainly are," Woody said happily, wrapping his arm around Bo's waist, something Jessie had seen him do so many times when he hadn't been aware she'd seen. "Not setting a date until the farm is back in shape, but that shouldn't take long once we sell the other land."

Jessie was agog as Woody explained his plans for the farmland, including the building of the stables, and nodded excitedly in all the right places. "This sounds super! The critters are gonna be so happy to have a new home!"

"Well, I guess the first point of business is to finish getting the farmhouse cleaned up. How are you with a paint brush, little miss?" Woody asked, and Jessie shrieked at being included, giving him another hug.

"Are you kidding? I love painting!"

* * *

It was early evening when they retired to some chairs set out on the farmhouse porch for a rest, Shep curled up next to Jessie's feet this time. The entire farmhouse had been cleared of Mr Hayward's belongings, in that Woody and Bo would be able to start afresh. Not being in the best of health and having no one to care for him, Mr Hayward had let the property go into a bad state, worse that Woody had ever realised, but they had turned that on its head in a few short hours. They'd opened and cleaned the windows, washed the walls, swept the floors, and Jessie had painted the kitchen cupboards in a bright blue colour. The old furniture sat in the front yard in piles, waiting for the rag and bone man to make his way down the country lanes. Most of the other rubbish they had burned on a bonfire, which sat, smouldering, in one of the further away fields.

"So we start building tomorrow?" Jessie asked, glancing across at Woody, who sat hand in hand with Bo. The cowboy nodded.

"Bright and early."

"I guess an extra pair of hands might come in handy?" Jessie asked, and Woody looked at her.

"Sure. What makes you think you wouldn't be wanted?"

"Oh, I don't know. I wasn't sure how much you guys needed me, being a new couple and all."

"Jessie. You work here. As long as we're here, you'll be needed." Woody assured her, and the redhead broke a smile again at his words.

* * *

The next few weeks were a busy time for the three of them. Woody worked with Jessie on building stables, and their hammering could be heard long into the evenings most days. Not that it bothered Bo. She was busy arranging the house – Woody had moved over his own possessions from the cottage and there were boxes to get through. Bo went to town and chose material for curtains, brought rugs and sewed cushions busily. She often worked with Shep by her feet, and he followed her to the fields and the barn when she went to see the sheep.

The animals remained in barns until the building work was complete. They wouldn't be put out to pasture again until Woody felt sure the land was free of noise and dust. He talked with Bo of selling some of the cattle and sheep, and she agreed. The herd that Mr Hayward had was much too big for both of them to manage, and with the inclusion of the horses, the farm would be at breaking point. They ended up selling six of the sheep and fourteen of the cattle at market one week, leaving them with a flock of eight sheep, and ten cattle. The horses Jessie brought over from the old stables were a total of six altogether.

The land too, sold well. Woody attained two different proposals for the land, both from neighbouring farmers; he was able to appease both, and split the land in two, giving each farmer an equal share. It meant the addition of an extra fence to the one he'd already put in place to separate his own land from the other, but it was solid work for Jessie and himself for a couple of days.

Woody continued to work the cattle too, he saw to the milking with Bo every morning at sunrise, and downsized the dairy barn to produce only what they knew they could sell. It brought in a tidy profit every month, and the cowboy was pleased. With the extra money, they managed to get the farmhouse roof replaced in time for the coming winter. Jessie was still in charge of the horses; she mucked out the stables every day, and perversely to Woody's notice, seemed to enjoy her work. He paid her well from the profits the farm turned over, and in return she turned her hand to helping him with the dairy barn once again, having been too overcome with emotion to enter the area since Mr Hayward's untimely death.

She had also moved into, with no hesitation, Woody's old cottage, which he had offered to furnish for her too, the young girl having not much money. She had been a bit adamant that she'd work for the money and furnish it herself, but Woody wouldn't hear of it, having sold land and dairy for such sums he could only have dreamed of before. So it was to be that Jessie settled for his offer, and therefore was never far away, should Woody need her on the farm.

* * *

One morning Jessie turned up with a young man in tow, and Woody, sitting on the porch surveying the land and taking a rest from farm work, watched in interest. Jessie was riding the horse as usual, and the man with her was walking to the side of her as she cantered along at a steady pace. As Jessie dismounted Woody continued to watch. The stranger seemed uncomfortable in the large open space, looking all around animatedly as if something would attack him from out of nowhere.

"Morning Woody," Jessie called cheerfully, as she started to climb up the porch towards him.

"Morning Jess," Woody returned, "Who's this?" He turned attention on the young man, who must have been a head shorter than Jessie but sturdily built.

"This is Buzz. He used to work at the stables with me. Since we closed it down over there he's had trouble finding work and I told him you'd help. Please Woody?" Jessie looked at her employer with beseeching eyes, and Woody found himself giving in easily to her big doe eyes.

"Fine Jessie." He glanced across to the young man. "How good are you with other animals, Buzz?"

"Oh...I really only work with horses," Buzz said quietly, lifting his eyes to meet Woody's, and then glanced across at Jessie who was standing there observing the exchange.

"Fair enough. You'll help Jessie look after the maintenance of the stables and the horses, and I'll train you how to work the dairy barn in due course. I could use a extra pair of hands in there. But in the meantime you don't go near the cattle or the sheep, understood?"

Buzz nodded and Jessie grinned. "So Buzz can stay?"

"I already said yes, didn't I?" Woody turned a warm smile on the redhead, who jumped up and down excitedly and then grabbed Buzz's hand.

"C'mon Buzz, the critters will be so glad to see your face again!"

As Woody settled himself back into his chair, watching Jessie leading Buzz across to the stables, he got a vague feeling that the new arrival didn't mind Jessie's exuberance in the slightest – in fact, to Woody's observance; he rather seemed to enjoy it. He smiled faintly to himself. He remembered back to when Bo had led him up the hillside that first time; perhaps history was repeating itself.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_The dress I describe for Jessie is __also__ inspired by the fanart of *lily-fox. __Also, h__asta luego is a Western/cowboy's way of saying "so long"._

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The winter came and went, a gruelling one for them all since it was the first winter they'd endured on the farm without the presence of Mr Hayward. The cattle and sheep went back into barns for shelter, and Jessie, with the help of Buzz before he left for his own home in the late evening, saw that the horses were secure in their stables. She'd often stay over with Bo and Woody, curled up on the sofa after they retired to bed, and awaken in the morning to venture outside again.

It was one such morning that Woody found Jessie kneeling in one of the stables, petting one of the horses. When he ventured closer Jessie looked round and put up a hand quietly to stop him coming closer, pointing to something nestled in next to the horse. With a shock, Woody saw it was a foal lying there, feeding from its mother.

"We thought this one might have been pregnant," Jessie said softly, still petting the mother horse, who was being patient with the foal suckling on her. "We long suspected back at the stables that one of the male horses had mounted her at some stage, but we couldn't be sure. Now I guess we know, huh?" She looked around at Woody. "Guess this means in due course we'll need to add an extra stable."

"Male or female?" Woody asked softly, and Jessie laughed.

"It's a filly. Female," she added, seeing Woody's look, "We gotta come up with a name for her."

"Well, I'll let you decide, Jess," Woody obliged, and left the redhead to tend to the new mother and her infant.

* * *

The coming of the new foal was not the only new beginning to befall the farm, although it was the only one to be taken on in the winter. In the spring, Woody and Bo decided to finally tie the knot at the small registry office in the local church – the very same church where Bo had been assigned her missionary work nearly a year previous.

Bo, of course, wore the red dress with the bonnet, shoes and jewellery that she'd so carefully picked out those few months previous. She got ready at the cottage under Jessie's attention, so Woody and Buzz could prepare themselves at the farmhouse. They had hired a small open top carriage for the journey to town, and Jessie hitched up her own horse to the front of it. With Bo settled in the back, she shook the reins and they set off.

Woody and Buzz arrived in a hired car before Bo and Jessie ever made it to the church. Jessie came in first, wearing a pretty yellow dress with black boots and a shawl around her shoulders. Bo entered behind Jessie and Woody gasped on seeing her. The red dress fell softly over her slim frame, the shoes and hat matching perfectly. She had a youthful glow about her suddenly, and he remembered all the reasons he'd fallen in love with her in the first place.

"You look beautiful," he complimented his fiancée, as she moved to stand beside him.

"And you don't look so bad yourself," she whispered, moving her hand to the collar of his suit jacket to smooth it flat. He merely grinned at her, and looked around at Jessie and Buzz, who had taken seats on a small pew built into the wall.

The pastor, who had also been present the entire time the four of them were in the room, now stepped forward to start the ceremony. As he spoke, Jessie reached across for Buzz's hand and squeezed it. "It's so romantic," she whispered, staring rapt at the couple in front of her, not noticing the blush spreading over Buzz's face.

* * *

After the ceremony was finished, Woody led his bride outside to the waiting carriage, and Jessie hopped up in front. Buzz was to return the hired car just across town and then make his way back home. On the return to the farm, Jessie stayed at the front of the carriage while Woody got out, and helped Bo down.

"So I guess I'll see you in due course, Jessie," Woody called up to the redhead, and she nodded.

"Certainly will. Where are you going for the honeymoon?"

"Nowhere special. Along the coast, maybe. We'll take the truck and see what's out there, go on an adventure. See the world, like Bo's always wanted to."

Bo laughed at Woody's words affectionately. "Silly cowboy! All I want right now is right here with me."

"Well," Jessie cut in, aware that this turn of talk could give way to things she wasn't sure she should hear as an outsider, "I gotta get the carriage back to town. Hasta luego!" She flicked the reins and waved to the couple standing in front of the farmhouse. Woody and Bo waved back at her, and then watched the carriage until it was out of sight down the lane.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

It was a week later, on their return from the coast, that they saw Jessie again. As they drove up to the farmhouse, the truck billowing dirt behind it, Woody craned his neck a little, looking for his employees. The land was silent and still as they pulled up in front of the farmhouse. Woody got out of the truck, looking all around, and the other side of the truck Bo opened her door too and stepped out. Her usually pale skin had caught the essence of a light tan in their absence.

"Where is everyone?" She voiced Woody's own question aloud.

Woody shook his head in reply. "Probably in the stables. Let's go look."

Bo came around the truck and slipped her hand into his. "I hope everything's alright," she whispered, as they walked in the direction of the stables.

"What happened to your belief in the right thing? All that church type stuff?" Woody asked.

"Woody, please. After some of the things we did, I'm sure the church has disowned me," Bo replied, her cheeks flushing at the memories of their nights alone.

Woody raised a broad smile and dropped a kiss onto her cheek as they entered the stable area. "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it."

Bo's cheeks flushed brighter, and she was about to reply when a giggle met her ears. It was coming from one of the stables. "Did you hear that?" she whispered to Woody, who nodded. He let go of Bo's hand and peeked into each of the stables as she tiptoed along behind him. At the fourth stable along belonging to a beautiful white horse called Ivory, he stopped and called into the half darkness.

"Jessie?"

* * *

The couple in the corner of the stable broke apart, and Woody suddenly saw it _was _Jessie, and that it was Buzz with her. The redhead had the biggest smile on her face, which only served to broaden further when she noticed the cowboy.

"Woody!" She shouted, running across to hug him, making the horse jump, and Buzz looking on in the background. She noticed Bo just behind Woody, "Bo! Oh my goodness, we weren't expecting you back so soon."

"I noticed," Woody muttered drily, but Jessie ignored the dig. She grasped Bo's wrists in glee.

"How was the honeymoon?"

The colour that had just left Bo's cheeks returned full pelt, and Jessie giggled again. "That good, huh?"

"She's not the only one blushing," Woody pointed out, noticing in the light that Jessie's cheeks were also pink. The pinkness increased as Jessie stuttered.

"Well...well, you know how it is, Woody. Being around a loved up couple...it tends to wear off...on others." She glanced back at Buzz, who was walking around the horse and towards the trio at the stable door, and Woody couldn't hide his frank astonishment at his original notion coming true.

"You...and Buzz?"

"Sure..." Jessie said vaguely, turning her attention back to the cowboy. "Or can't I like another employee? Is it against farm policy or something?"

"Not in the slightest," Woody said with a smile. "I'm happy for you, Jess. I can't stand in the way of someone else finding something special." He paused then changed the subject. "So, did you name the new foal in the end?"

"Eclair." Jessie said, and Woody blinked.

"Claire?"

Jessie laughed. "No. Eclair. Although now you mention it, that's probably how Mr Hayward would have pronounced Claire."

Woody rolled his eyes at the stable girl's wit. "So Truffles, the mare, has a filly called Eclair?"

"Lookit you. Catching onto all the horsey talk at last," Jessie grinned. "So we have Buttercup, Truffle, Eclair, Ginger, Saffron, Cinnamon and Ivory." She reeled off the list and Woody groaned.

"Sounds like the contents of a kitchen cupboard."

"What you'd rather name them like you did some of the cattle? No thank you!" Jessie retorted with a smirk. "I don't think they'd thank you to be called something like Stetson or Wrangler."

"Those are good names!" Woody got defensive, and Bo smirked besides him.

"Jessie, don't. He came up with those names all by himself."

"You don't say," Jessie said, and Woody gave up.

"Fine, name the horses whatever you want!"

"Thank you! I will! In the meantime, have you carried your bride over the threshold?"

The look on Woody's face was priceless. "Damnit. So busy trying to find you two I forget about that. C'mon Mrs Pride." He turned to Bo, who swooned as he swept her up in his arms and carried her across to the farmhouse.

Jessie watched them go as Buzz stepped up close behind her, his arm snaking around her waist as he pulled her back to him. "Where were we?" He whispered, making a chill pass through the young redhead as she turned back to him, to resume where they'd left off after being so rudely interrupted.

* * *

Inside the farmhouse, Woody had put Bo down, kissed her warmly, and then gone to get the bags from the truck. She was over by the kitchen window, leaning on the counter when he returned. He dropped the luggage into a pile near the door and glanced over. Her back was to him, and she was gazing into the distance at the hills. He went up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her neck. "What is it?"

"Nothing. Just thinking how lucky we are." She responded, reaching back with her hand to idly tousle his hair. "We have money, a place to live, good friends who are falling in love..."

Woody sighed. "You're right. We are lucky." He looked over her shoulder and followed her gaze. She wasn't looking at the hills, he realised, she was looking at the oak tree. Pulling her around to face him, he kissed her, feeling as if everything was perfect and in place.

"How about another walk, Bo?"

Just for old time's sake, after all.

* * *

**-Fin-**

***please read and review, thankie!***


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